


it's gonna take a superman to sweep me off my feet

by dontbitethesun



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-27
Updated: 2011-11-27
Packaged: 2017-10-26 14:06:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/284139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontbitethesun/pseuds/dontbitethesun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is an ace reporter. Cas is a superhero with a stupid name that Dean refuses to ever say. He's not so good with the secret identity thing either, considering how easily Dean figures it out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's gonna take a superman to sweep me off my feet

Dean Winchester is no Lois Lane and he's never wanted to be.

This doesn't stop him from ending up as front page news of his own goddamn newspaper after an unexpected airborne "rescue" by Lawrence's newest superhero.

Sam, resident photographer for the very same paper, is grinning gleefully at the front page spread while Dean thinks about what's better; crawling under his desk and hiding there forever or throwing himself from from the building's roof to the cement ten stories below. On second thought, maybe he should throw his brother off the roof instead. Sam's been cracking Lois Lane jokes all morning. Maybe the new superhero can rescue _him_ instead and make front page news.

Dean is an ace report, dammit. He's supposed to _write_ the news, not be in it.

"Dean," Sam says, "I think you can see up your skirt!"

Dean glares up at him just in time to see his rookie partner stepping off the elevator wearing that stupid trench coat Dean can never seem to convince him to leave back at the office whenever they head out for an interview.

"Okay, one," Dean starts, scowling up at his brother, "you can cut it out with the damsel in distress jokes. I'd say they stopped being funny, except they never were in the first place. And second, the view in this photo looks suspiciously like the one from our apartment. If I find out you were the one who took this, there will be hell to pay that's about a million times worse that that time when were fourteen and you crashed the your bike into the Impala."

Sam pales and wanders off to his own desk, with a weak wave at Dean's partner Castiel as he shrugs out of his trench coat and drapes it over the back of his chair. He gives Dean this weird little smile from behind his dorky, wide-rimmed black glasses.

Dean huffs out a sigh and says, "So I take it you saw the news this morning."

"News?" Cas asks, a confused look on his face.

Dean just stares at him in silent exasperation before snapping, "You work at a newspaper and you didn't even glance at the front page this morning, much less read it?" He shakes his head in frustration and grumbles, "I need a cigarette," and heads out to the roof. He gets five minutes of peace before Cas follows him up there, just like Dean knew he would.

"So, um, I saw that you and that Angelman happened to be on the front page today. I guess you're pretty upset about that," Cas says.

"That is such a stupid name," Dean says, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"It does make sense, though," Cas replies. "With the wings and all."

Dean just shakes his head and says, "You do realize that this couldn't have happened on a worse day, don't you?"

Cas considers this, tilting his head while he thinks. He pushing his glass back up to the bridge of his nose from where they have slipped down his nose. "We're interviewing the governor today?" he hazards.

"Yeah," Dean answers, pausing to see if Cas will see why this is such a problem. "His wife will be there," Dean prompts.

Now Dean sees Cas' lips form that little 'oh' of understanding. Governor Shurley's wife is a little… eccentric, to say the least. She is going to hound Dean with questions about what she (and most of the rest of the city, for that matter) is going to see as his "romantic flight" with the angel dude.

"Obviously that will be a little… difficult," Cas says. "But I don't think that's the real problem."

For a moment, Dean doesn't say a word, just stares Cas down with a grim expression, but Cas' expression doesn't change, his big blue eyes don't even blink. He knows, of course, that he is right on.

"Okay, yes," Dean sighs. Cas may be right, but Dean doesn't have to like it. "Do you have any idea how hard I've worked to get the reputation I have? I busted my ass for years, asking the hard questions, never taking no for an answer… But now, because of some lame new superhero and an ill-timed photo that my stupid brother probably took, no one is going to take me seriously anymore."

Cas just stares silently into his eyes without even blinking until Dean can't take the intensity of his stare anymore and looks away.

"I take you seriously," Cas says, reaching out to place a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean glares at it while Cas continues. "Plenty of other people do too. You're a respectable reporter, one of the best, and this isn't going to change that."

With those words, Cas drops his hand and walks away. Dean stares after him until he disappears into the building and down the stairs. He's awkward, but so ernest, and Dean kind of likes him. That way. He's actually kind of mortified about it. Not because Cas is a guy, but because normally the people Dean likes are so suave, real cool. More like Mr. Superhero Man, who swept Dean off his feet quite literally. Except Dean has vowed to hate Mr. Superhero Man, or whatever he'd been dubbed, for embarrassing him so thoroughly this morning.

-

The interview hadn't gone exactly how Dean had figured - no, it was worse. Much worse. The governor hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise, what with his wife babbling on and on about interstellar love and how Dean and angel dude were clearly meant to be together.

When he and Cas report in about the interview to their boss and how absolutely, horrifically, terribly wrong it had gone, Dean thinks he might have to graduate from cigarettes to the flask of whiskey hidden in the bottom of his desk.

He knows he'll have to when Singer asks, "Does anybody even know where he's from?"

Cas doesn't answer, just looks anywhere but Singer and Dean. Dean figures it's because he doesn't want Singer to find out he doesn't even read the paper he works for.

"I… don't know," Dean finally answers.

"Well, find out," Singer orders.

"You want me to what, hang out on the roof until he shows up for an interview?" Dean asks incredulously.

"Hell yes, that's what I want you to do." Singer does not look like he's joking. Dean wishes he was.

"How is that even going to work? He's going to magically know I'm up there waiting for him?"

But Singer's attention is absorbed with the papers on his desk. "Don't come down until you have the story," he says, "and that's final. Now git out of my office."

Feeling a little bit like he's shell-shocked, Dean makes his way towards the stairs.

"I'll get you a coffee," Cas calls after him, trying to cheer him up.

"You do that," Dean says absently, grabbing his notepad and his whiskey flask on the way.

-

Dean doesn't actually have to wait long for the angel dude to show up. At the time, he's surprised. Ten minutes later, it all becomes blindingly clear.

Dean asks the general questions; who are you, where did you come from, why are you here, wearing such a ridiculous costume? Okay, maybe not that last bit, but otherwise, it's all very generic. Just about every major city has their own superhero nowadays, all with some level of lameness, and now, Dean figures, it's Lawrence's turn.

Bored by this all, Dean asks, "Tell me a secret no one else knows about you."

The angel dude tilts his head and thinks for a moment before sheepishly answering, "Sometimes, I rescue cats stuck in trees."

Dean's mouth drops open. He doesn't give a shit about that answer, because he _knows_ that head tilt, had seen it just hours ago.

Son of a bitch, angel dude is _Cas._

And seriously? With all the Lois Lane jokes he's been getting today, he should have figured it out by now. Who hadn't read the old Superman comics when they were kids, or at least seen all the movies? Dean certainly has. This scenario has been played out. He can't believe Cas was stupid enough to try it and not expect that _someone_ at least, if not Dean, his partner, the man who sits at the desk right across from his everyday would figure it out. All it took him was ten minutes, a better look at his face, and that goddamn head tilt.

"I can't believe you!" Dean snaps and storms off towards the stairs.

"You don't like cats?" Cas calls nervously after him.

Oh, he should be nervous! Dean is going to give him hell for this when he gets back down to the office.

Except, for some reason, he doesn't. Cas comes back, wearing those stupid glasses and that damn trench coat, carrying a pair of still steaming coffees.

Still maintaning his cover.

"There was a long line," he says in explanation for why he took so long even though Dean doesn't ask, tone even. Like there's no other possibility.

Dean just gapes at him for a moment before frowning into his coffee. Cas doesn't know Dean has him figured out. _How can he be so oblivious?_ Dean wonders. He probably thinks everyone else is just as oblivious as he is, which is why he doesn't expect that Dean can see right through both his get-ups like they're the oldest trick in the book (mostly _because they are_ ) and recognize him.

Dean actually feels a little bad for him. Still pissed enough that he doesn't speak to him for the rest of the day as punishment, but at least he doesn't bring up the angel dude thing.

Cas kind of pouts at him all day, but it does nothing to weaken Dean's resolve. He doesn't even say goodbye when he leaves for the night, or tell Cas that he's got one last lead to look into before heading home, mostly because he doesn't want angel dude to show up again. He would have been perfectly fine the night before. He hadn't needed superhero help, really. Although, looking at the facts, Dean may be the only one to believe that. Still, the airborne fireman carry back to his balcony was a little much.

He had wondered how angel dude had known where he lived.

And because it's just one of those days where Dean cannot catch a break, he barely makes it two blocks away from the paper's building when he is assailed by a masked supervillan. Although, assailed might be too strong a word to use as it indicates that the supervillan had actually thought ahead. In reality, he seems somewhat surprised to see Dean.

"Hey, you're that guy that was in the paper with Angelman!" he says, excitedly pointing at Dean like he is some kind of celebrity.

It seems that angel dude's wanna-be-arch-nemesis can read the paper too. Dean wonders if this is out of the ordinary, but he doesn't actually know that much about supervillan literacy statistics - if there even is such a thing - to be sure.

"Um, no. No, I'm really not," Dean tries to lie, but the supervillan doesn't seem to care, and rambles on about how terrified angel dude will be when he captures his lady love.

"Hey!" Dean can't help objecting to that last part.

"I'll just have to figure out how what to do with you later. In the meantime, you're coming with me."

Dean just rolls his eyes. "And what ridiculous superpower do you have?" he asks.

Dean doesn't get to find out since one of the wanna-be-arch-nemesis' goons sneaks up behind him and hits him over the head. Dean's last thought as he blacks out is _how did this become my life?_

-

When Dean comes to, he is, thankfully, alone. He is, however, tied to a chair and locked in a dark room. From the slight chemical smell of it, he thinks it might be a janitor's closet.

He tests the rope around his wrists and ankles, but it's no good, he's tied securely.

"Hello!" he shouts at the top of his lungs. He does his best to kick at the door, but his foot doesn't quite reach. "Your prisoner is awake!"

Twenty minutes pass with no answer. Outside the janitor's closet is silence.

Dean sighs. He hopes angel dude has superhearing. They never did get around to that question in their otherwise very revealing interview earlier that day.

"Castiel! Cas!" Dammit, he is going to yell that name until his voice goes hoarse. He absolutely is not using that other one.

When Cas finally shows up and wrenches open the door, with the wings and the costume, looking a little frantic with his hair ruffled from the wind, he's still wearing his glasses. Dean can't help but roll his eyes as Cas rips away his restraints.

"I didn't realize you knew it was me," Cas says, a little awe-struck.

Dean reaches and pulls Cas' glasses off his face. "You didn't honestly think I wouldn't figure it out, did you?"

Cas' sheepish look says that he had.

"Well," Dean says, "you have to admit, it is better this way."

Cas opens his mouth, about to ask _what way_ when Dean silences him with a kiss. He's pretty sure Cas will figure out why.

Eventually, maybe.

-

Dean makes Cas write his article about angel dude for him, claiming that it's because Cas is the foremost expert on the subject, but really it's that he's somewhat ticked off that A) Cas had tried to keep his secret identity from him, and B) had done such an astoundingly poor job of keeping his secret identity from him. Cas had glared a little bit, fixing Dean with his smoldering, intense gaze, but he'd done it and afterwards, Dean had made it up to him with hot, mind-blowing sex in which Cas' wings had played no small part.

The next day at work, Sam takes one look at them coming in together, the goofy smile on Dean's face, and gasps.

"Dean! You and Cas? How is Angelman going to feel about this?"

Dean just rolls his eyes and glances over at the small, satisfied smile that's been on Cas' face all morning.

"I think he'll be okay."

Sam follows his eyes and studies Cas with a curious, slightly suspicious look on his face.

Dean gives it a week tops before Sam has Cas' secret identity figured out too.

He thinks he should probably talk to Cas about being less obvious.


End file.
